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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361278">The Gift of Kyklos</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen'>alephthirteen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sticky and Sweet [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>After The Storm, Amazonian parties, F/F, F/M, Harems, Just So Much Gay Sex, Lots of Sex, Our Heroes Are Already Triumphant, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Respect and Consent, Rural Setting, THAT IS LESBIAN ACTIVITY, Themiscryian Sex Toys are Just A Lot to Deal With, Token Male Character, Tropical Paradises</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:34:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when the worst -- and best -- traits of a family skip a generation.  There are times when the defeat must be final.  There are villains too wicked to survive.  There are heroes to kind to kill and those with the wisdom to do so.</p><p>Amazons do not suffer wicked men gladly and they cannot abide a woman's anguish.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sticky and Sweet [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866898</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Daughter's Gift and a Mother's Mercy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where the stage is set and where Hera is shown a better way to avenge women by the greatest of Zeus' bastard children: Diana of Themyscira.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Mount Olympus | Present Day</strong>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>As I stride through the dungeon, my son's little automatons line the hallways.</p><p>"Queen Hera honors us with her presence!" the centurion shouts.</p><p>Soldiers of steel and bronze, clockwork and enchanted oil line this hallway, a hundred strong.  Every single one snaps to crisp attention.   Straight-backed as a sword with armor for skin and sinew hard as a mountain, these are the wickedest ideas of Ares' but wrought with all of Hephastesus's skill.</p><p>I didn't hesitate when Ares offered.  Was I going to trust my <em>husband</em> to defend my home?</p><p>"Leave us."</p><p>They turn their almost empty bronze helmets towards each other.  The dim yellow glow of their eyes reflects off the metal and they speak to each other in those sharp little clicks they use.</p><p><em>The language of the first hunters to walk the earth, </em>Artemis told me.  <em>Were clicks and a leading glance.</em></p><p>"Shall I get my favorite son to come speak to you?" I demand.</p><p>"My queen," they intone.</p><p>The bow to me and then clank off.</p><p>"Have yourselves oiled!" I bellow after them.</p><p>I reach up to my neck and pull the leather cord loose.  How my bastard daughter forged this, I have no idea.  Perhaps her damnable lasso, coiled tight around the ingot.  She stormed into the throne room, threw it and my feet and dared me either release my captives or to duel her.</p><p>There was no option.  Such wickedness could not be allowed.  Athena was my second and a slender, half-bloomed blonde whose hair floated behind her and whose bare feet never touched the floor was hers.  I beat Diana but the stranger had me and Athena both on the marble before I could blink, then she seared words into the stone beside my head with nothing but a glance and lines of fire pouring from her eyes.</p><p>'Traitor to womankind'</p><p>I had been challenged and humiliated, but not slain.  I owed Diana a listener's ear.</p><p>So here I am, standing in front of the least comfortable cell in our dungeons, facing the worst of my many misdeeds.</p><p>Inside are a cow and an empty-eyed woman, two bruised and filthy nymphs and a woman with thigh-length flaxen hair caked with filth and eyes blue and blaze-bright as Aphrodite herself.  Nothing has dimmed Helen's good looks; not the rape and burning of her beloved Troy, not the death of her lover, not centuries of neglect and beating at my hands. </p><p>I've come to realize that she and Aphrodite have more in common than beauty.  Among my family, only Athena and Aphrodite will look me in the eye on this mountaintop.  Athena, with respect and the knowledge that our paths never cross.  Aphrodite, with thin-veiled contempt.</p><p>Artemis may glare at me when I am in the woods, in her domain, but everyone else fears me.  Everyone mortal alive but Helen and every demigoddess but for those three godsfucked Amazons.</p><p>The cow naps in the corner and buckets of milk, one curdled, and a cheesemaker's toolkit line one corner of the cell along with drying veal sausages.  Little memorial effigies and crematorial burns sit on the shelves on the walls.  Burial charms for Io's calves, I suppose.  What would be her sons, were she still human.</p><p>I used to starve them.  I've either softened with age, or Helen's little tantrums and rants have gotten to me.</p><p>"What cruelty is this?" Helen demands.</p><p>"Diana has spoken to me.  There's better revenge against my husband," I reply.  "Which has nothing to do with you.   One which..."</p><p>I inhale sharply.</p><p>"One which might make the best of my line less ashamed of her evil stepmother, I suppose."</p><p>I turn the key in the lock.  It snaps off and soon the door melts into slag.  I suspect not even the smith-god could rebuild it.  I snap my fingers and my servants appear from the shadows of the columns.  They place the bundles I had my handmaidens prepare inside.  </p><p>"Bread, cheese, venison, soap, water, and fresh clothes.  A potion to cure Io. There's a <em>trireme</em> at the servant's docks.  The captain knows where to take you and he knows what happens on arrival if his men's eyes stray."</p><p>"Men's eyes stray," Echo babbles.  "Men's eyes stray..."</p><p>Helen gathers the nymph up and Echo relaxes, resting her head on Helen's breast.  I cannot tell if this is a child clinging to her mother or a wounded lover, held tight in sheltering arms.</p><p>"She's suffered worse than any of us.  Cure Echo, now, with your own hands, and I'll believe you.  We will take your offer."</p><p>I nod, rolling up the peacock-bright green satin of my robes.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Of Gay Clubs, Glamours, and Greek Fire (Part I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where Zatanna learns a new spell, the Teen Titans go through a team shakeup, both drinks and heads are spiked, and a rebel daughter learns from her elders.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Throb Nightclub (Metropolis) | Zero Day</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I lean back against the bar, still floating on the buzz from the redhead's eager tongue.</p><p>"Tell me you at least wash your hands after, Cassie."</p><p>I take Lena's scotch from her, sip and place it back.</p><p>"You tell me, you useless lesbian."</p><p>She lifts the glass to her nose and sniffs.  Then sniffs again, then cocks her head to think.</p><p>"God, you really are his granddaughter, aren't you?  There's a different woman's scent on <em>each fingerprint.</em>"</p><p>I chuckle.</p><p>"No, I'm better.  Zeus wouldn't have gotten consent, let alone gotten <em>begged</em> for it.  I'm sure your overripe little Kryptonian has been wrist-deep in you twice tonight."</p><p>Lena's ivory-pale cheeks color.  Her throat is like a column of marble and she marks so easily it's a wicked thing to do but she glows when covered in faded lipstick and lip-shaped bruises.</p><p>"As I thought."</p><p>
  <em>Gods, she's beautiful.</em>
</p><p>I've never been given a gift so sweet as what Kara and Lena gave me; a place in their bed.  In return, I could only give them an offer of pleasant exile, a way out of their inevitable breakup at the end of high-school, and all the bedmates they could hope for.</p><p>We hatched our plan the next morning. </p><p>Who knew that a threesome would save the world?</p><p>Working together, the Titans, plus Lena, Kara and myself would take half a dozen of the Justice League's most stubborn opponents off the field quietly and in ways that didn't tarnish Clark, Diana, or Bruce's image.  Lex will the last pawn to fall.</p><p>With the worst of the worst gone, the League can fix the world rather than saving it from the lunatic of the month.</p><p>"You think he'll be here?" I muse.</p><p>"Lex?" Lena asks. "Eve will be here, so he will.  He can't let a traitor escape him."</p><p>Her hand shakes as she lifts the scotch towards her lips.</p><p>"No, darling," I sigh, taking it from her and throwing it back.  "Can't have you getting the barkeep in trouble and I prefer fucking <em>buzzed </em>women, not comatose ones.  So does Kara."</p><p>I glance over to the DJ and see three quick flashes of red.  Heat vision that can destroy anything absorbed into the skin of a hand that cannot be destroyed.  Kara's signal.</p><p>Sure enough, a compact blonde rushes over to the bar and orders three shots of Jaeger.  She looks petrified.  </p><p>"He's here."</p><p>"Good," Lena grumbles.  </p><p>I put my coat over her shoulders along with the straw hat Jenny Hex gave me.  The idea that a Luthor would be wearing distressed jeans, a black duster and a straw hat nearly makes me laugh.  Looks good on her though.  I'm struck by the urge to become a farmer and rise with Lena at dawn every morning to work the fields.  Surely Kara could help, raised as she was on a wheat farm in Kansas.</p><p>Sure enough, Lex sweeps in after, followed by a brute of a man and a sharp-eyed redhead, both no doubt heavily armed.</p><p>"Wait for it," Lena hisses.  "Wait until you have cause to arrest him.  The treaty only goes so far."</p><p>Lex and Eve chat.  She weaves a good yarn.  Supergirl caught her but a traitor in the government helped her escape, she told them nothing, so on and so on.  She doesn't mention the Amazon or the lasso or the half-dozen other heroines who brought her in.</p><p>He hugs her and she relaxes slightly.  I watch as his left hand slinks around her drink and tips a vial of something into it. </p><p>There's several clicks of a camera.  I look up to where the Nikon is suspended, silently, above the bar.  Invisible hands work the focus and the shutters.  Click.  Click.  Click.</p><p>"Go," Lena snarls.  "End him."</p><p>I push off the bar and put a hand on my knife.  The big man is closer to me but the woman is likely the real threat.  This one looks like he has half the strength of a bull and less than half its brains.</p><p>"Hi there, stud," I coo.  "I'm Cassie."</p><p>"Otis.  I'm busy."</p><p>"Yeah.  About that.  I need to speak to your boss."</p><p>"Not happening."</p><p>"I'm not asking."</p><p>"Not happening."</p><p>"Last chance."</p><p>"Fuck off."</p><p>Not exactly mercy thrice-offered like mom taught me but not too far off, either.</p><p>I grab the back of his head and slam him face-first into the brass railing.  There's a crunch but it's too small to be his spine.  To his immense credit, he comes back up, gun ready.  I push my anger into the steel and sweep up with the knife.  Red-hot, Olympus forged steel takes the barrel, chamber and the top half of the clip off, nearly taking his hand in the process.</p><p>One knee to the groin and a quick sweep of the legs and he's down.  I bring my sandal down, hard, on his forehead.  Hydra leather studded with cold-rolled steel meets all-too-human male, made of skin and bone and meat.  He's out cold.</p><p>A yellow gloved hand sneaks out and snares Eve and Lex's drinks.  A fifty is left on the oak bartop along with a slowly-beeping batarang.</p><p>The woman comes at me now.  She's skilled.  Her blows and thrusts come from half a dozen martial arts I recognize and at least one I don't.</p><p>She gets a lucky hit to my jaw.  I feel the bones bend but not snap.  She's strong.  Some sort of mechanical assist, some machine hidden in her suit jacket's sleeve.</p><p>"Mercy Graves," I grumble.  "I'm almost impressed."</p><p>She leaps clear of my half-dazed haymaker and pulls a gleaming silver pistol from her jacket.</p><p>"Die, Kryptonian."</p><p>She fires.  Something green and hissing and awful streams out of the weapon.</p><p>"Wrong blonde, wrong weapon, you murderous ginger cunt<em>," </em>I snarl.</p><p>She sees the bracers now that my blouse is burned away.</p><p>"Oh, fu-"</p><p>Kara drops Mercy with a flick of the fingers to the side of her head.  She's more focused in a fight than I was at her age.  At her age, I could barely get my eyes off a woman's breasts or her face long enough to parry a thrust.</p><p>"That one's the Kryptonian."</p><p>Lex is wide-eyed and shaking.  There's a damp spot on his pants.  He tries to reach his signal watch on the sly but Kara glances at it and burns it off his wrist.  He reaches for something else in his vest and I throw my knife, spearing it into whatever devilish thing he had hidden there.</p><p>"Lex Luthor, under the authority granted me by the UN Treaty with Themiscrya, I, Cassie Sandmark, daughter of Diana Prince and grandchild of Zeus, hereby place you under arrest for crimes against womankind."</p><p>"What crimes?" he snarls.</p><p>I look up and down the row.</p><p>"Anyone else see him spike that girl's drink?  Raise your hand.  No harm will come to you."</p><p>No fewer than ten hands go up.</p><p>"That crime, Lex."</p><p>"I wasn't going to rape her!" he shrieks.</p><p>"Oh, just drug her and haul her off?"</p><p>Lena comes out from behind me.  I can hear her heart pounding against her ribs but her voice is steady.  She puts an arm around my waist to keep herself upright.</p><p>"It's over, Lex.  I put the virus on your phone the moment you sat down.  The FBI, the DEO, and SEAL teams one through eight are tearing your empire apart.  Without your weapons and with your assets frozen, I daresay the government won't protest your extradition very hard."</p><p>"Come quietly," I suggest.  "Or don't.  I couldn't care less."</p><p>He swings at me just before Cassandra's batarang goes off.  I grab his arm and swing him down into the heavy cloud of pale gas.  Lena leans close, holding a gas mask to her face. After a few seconds, he sags like a puppet with no strings.</p><p>"Hexobarbitol, big brother.  Turnabout is fair play and all that.  Sleep tight, Lex."</p><p>===== </p><p>Kara cuffs Mercy and Otis to the bar and slings lex over her shoulder.</p><p>A dozen women shake my hands before we even get to the dance floor.  Lena's too.  She's tomato-red by the time we reach the side door.</p><p>The fill-in bouncer -- Susan Vasquez, I think -- waves us through.</p><p>A team of people in black, patchless uniforms waits in the alley.  They're led by a red-headed woman carrying two pistols much like Mercy's, except black and with a white crystal at the tip, not a green one.</p><p>Kara tosses Lex into the back of the rented van.  The redhead wraps her up in a hug and rocks back and forth from foot-to-foot.</p><p>"Gonna miss you, squirt," she grumbles into Kara's shoulder.  "You're like my kid sister, you know that right?"</p><p>Kara pats her.</p><p>"Alex!  I'm not gone forever.  Besides, you should visit sometime.  You and Maggie."</p><p>Alex looks to me, hope writ large on her face.</p><p>"Anytime."</p><p>"Don't forget your correspondence courses," Alex teases, pretending to punch Kara on the shoulder.  "Who knows?  You may want a job someday."</p><p>"Gag llab," I hear Zatanna murmur.  "Dolfdnilb.  Sffucdnah."</p><p>Magic coalesces into restraints and she clips the cuffs into the bars on the sides of the van and pulls a hood over Lex's bound, gagged face.</p><p>"New spell?" I tease.</p><p>Zatanna shrugs.  I notice that the top button of her suit trousers is undone.</p><p>"Liar.  I see the bad kitty sitting in the passenger seat."</p><p>The spotted tail darts back into the shadows.  The growl is swallowed and muffled but the half-human hands gripping the seat and the pride rainbow clutch purse hanging from the back tells me all I need to know.</p><p>"You've been a bad girl, Cheetah."</p><p>The moan she gives explains so much.</p><p>"Was it ever really about the crime?" I tease her.</p><p>She mumbles something insensible into the gag, then shakes her head.</p><p>"You just like Amazons, don't you?"</p><p>She nods eagerly.</p><p>"You like being punished, don't you?"</p><p>She bites down hard, managing to destroy the gag.</p><p>"Yes, Mistress Cassie.  Mistress Zatanna was punishing me."</p><p>"Oh, really Zee?" I tease.</p><p>"In my defense, clawmarks on the seat <em>and</em> my back," Zee mutters.  "And...fuck.  Cat tongue."</p><p>It wouldn't be fair to say my mother gave me Cheetah like some family heirloom.  She was never truly a hostage to give and Diana will probably strike me dead if I ever breathe the word 'slave' in her presence. </p><p>Once given the chance to actually fuck someone -- anyone -- Amazonian and to touch the myth she spent her whole life chasing from ruin to ruin, she was as tame as a tabby kitten and just as ill-behaved. </p><p>A night, untied, in my bed and it became clear it was as much crush as it was lust. I woke with a purring cat pressed tight against me, kissing my ear and thanking me for dinner and for letting her stay and eventually weeping in my lap. </p><p>Kara, Lena and myself even treated her to a 'double date' in full view of Hollywood paparazzi.</p><p>Three awkward talks with my mother later, a bargain was struck.  Cheetah would be collared and the enchantments on it would keep her on the island or in my presence for eternity.  She wept, Diana hugged her and handed her several notebooks and some archaeology hand tools, and that was that.</p><p>I'm not sure it's love -- not yet -- but she's the only one I feel sorry for.  The only villain I plan to forgive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Meet Horny!Cassie, Poly!Kara and Poly!Lena and Domme!Zatanna.</p><p>Next stop: the blue waters and private beaches of the Agean Sea.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Of Gay Clubs, Glamours, and Greek Fire (Part II)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where Zatanna learns a new spell, the Teen Titans go through a team shakeup, both drinks and heads are spiked, and a rebel daughter learns from her elders.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Science note:  Cheetahs are a "little cat" meaning they can purr, because they have the bony voicebox, as opposed to lions and tigers which cannot.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Venice | Day 2 of the Justice Age</strong>
</p><p>(1:33pm, Local Time)</p><p> </p><p>"Do you prefer Barbara, or Cheetah?" Kara whispers in my ear.</p><p>"Ch-"</p><p>She blows a stream of frigid air, trailing from the back of my thighs to the back of my neck. </p><p>Fur stands on end. </p><p>My ears flick. </p><p>My tail moves to the side without asking.  The animal in me is readying itself to be <em>bred </em>by whatever powerful mate it thinks has mounted me.  The beast can't have the tail blocking access.</p><p>"Cheetah," I finally manage to gulp.  "It..."</p><p>I've never had good luck explaining why but I've never had friends, either, only accomplices.</p><p>"It includes all of me, you know?  Both of my identities."</p><p>Kara chuckles.</p><p>"Believe me, kitten, I do."</p><p>She straddles my thighs and leans down.  The fact that she's so close to the back of my head is very distracting.  She must be very, very flexible.</p><p>"You're really not so bad, are you?" she asks.</p><p>
  <em>Is she serious?</em>
</p><p>"I am.  I've done terrible things."</p><p>"So has Lena, in a sense."</p><p>"Not this bad, and not for terrible reasons.  No one actually died."</p><p>Kara hums.</p><p>"I think if I couldn't get her attention, I would've gone supervillain just to get her to notice me."</p><p>I yawn, stretching out as far as I can.</p><p>"I doubt that, girl scout."</p><p>I turn my head so I can see Kara in my peripheral.  Honey-blonde hair curtains her face, curly and just as gravity-defying and spry the heroine herself.  She looked better in a men's shirt with rolled-up sleeves than her cousin ever could hope to and with nothing on, the sight of her lean torso and her long arms and the glimpse of her breasts in the edge of my vision makes me clench my fangs together and growl.</p><p>I spent most of the night crying and sniffling and purring into Lena's neck while Kara put her fingers in me and fucking ruined me for any other sort of sex and Lena demanded to know what felt good, and what didn't and told me what she liked about me and what I liked about Kara's body and made me thank her lover for every orgasm.</p><p>I don't know what was harder: holding out until Kara gave permission or staring into those green eyes without orgasming non-stop or doing justice with my descriptions to Lena.</p><p>I don't think a purely human woman would've survived.  Kara, like Cassie, knows that I can handle more, and that I crave more, than a human could survive.   When Kara finished the night by going down on Lena, it was so slow and languorous and breathy that I fell asleep to the rhythmic rise of Lena's pale breasts.  Kara wore me down like a machine hammering steel and she melted Lena like whipped cream on the tongue.</p><p>The suite Lena rented is amazing.  Six bottles of champagne and baskets full of strawberry stems sit on the table.  Platter upon platter of pancakes and croissants and so on were demolished and then put back under their covers.  The windows are open, letting in the briny smell of the ocean and the chatter of vendors and the soft, slow ringing of bells on the slow-moving gondolas. </p><p>Kara and I are in one bed, the smaller one we've only used for fucking.  Raven, Cassandra and Zatanna are in the biggest bed, huddled around Cassie for warmth and only Cain seems awake.  She has a middle school level vocabulary book open on her lap and a Greek-&gt;English phrasebook opened on Cassie's bare chest.</p><p>
  <em>Poor creature.  Never encouraged to speak.  Never learned to read.  </em>
  <em>The way Cassie dotes on her makes more sense now.</em>
</p><p>The man who raised Cassandra Cain to be little more than a throwing knife was never on our list of targets but we hunted him down and Raven fed him to some beast she summoned up, something so horrible that the daughter of a demon lord lost her lunch on the way back out of the safe house.</p><p>Wally and Dick are in the other, a tangle of snores and lean sinew and smiles and half-erect cocks. </p><p>Everyone but Cassie and Raven was shocked when they linked up with us in Paris.  After dining with them, we were less shocked when they stripped and Wally groaned and shivered and melted under Dick's slow, steady attention.  Cassie, Kara and I watched every moment, rapt, while Lena and Zatanna just giggled at us.</p><p>If Mistress Cassie is to be believed, it was their tryst that shattered the Titans, not Cassie's one-nighter with Dick.  The jealousy Starfire felt led to her taking a leave, Artemis's breakup with Wally cost the team their archer, and Damian Wayne proved too lacking in people skills to repair it all.</p><p>When we went to pick her up before flying out of LAX, Raven was sniffling, perched on her suitcases and flicking through Facebook on her phone.  The gem on her forehead blazed blood red and searing hot to the touch.  Zatanna put her under what she called a 'Xanax charm' so she could sleep.</p><p>There's a series of knocks on the door.  Morse code.  L-L-L.</p><p>"Lena!" Kara calls out.</p><p>She hops off me, forgetting her own strength and mashing me into the blankets.  Which smell deliciously of Lena's juices and which really is the best thing to possibly be mashed into.</p><p>Throwing her cape around her like a bathrobe, she unlocks the door and lets Lena in.</p><p>Red-eyed and sniffling, Lena topples into Kara's arms.  Her fingers dig into Kara's biceps and she wails.</p><p>
  <em>She got what she wanted, then.</em>
</p><p>"Hey, hey, hey," she coos.  "I'm sorry Lee.  You were so brave, honey.  So brave.  I'm sorry it had to be you."</p><p>"Thank you," Lena croaks. </p><p>"Always, <em>gra ma chroi</em>."</p><p>"The Justice Department and the Hauge both declined to prosecute.  They'll turn Lex and the others over at the port."</p><p>Along with everyone else, Cassie was woken by Lena's crying and she shifts Cain off her with a kiss to her ink-black, razor straight hair.  She opens her arms to Lena and Kara and beckons.  They snuggle in and it's even more obvious why Cassie is our leader...our queen. </p><p>We can all be brave for one, or two, or maybe three of our lovers.  When it matters most, Cassie can be brave for all of us.  She's also the only one besides Lena with enough ego to care who will rule our little island paradise.  </p><p>"I'll get an earlier appointment, okay?" Raven suggests.  "So we can be there sooner?"</p><p>Lena nods.</p><p>"Suitcase in the closet," she sniffles.  "Don't go over thirty million."</p><p>Cassie snorts.</p><p>"Goddess be gentle!  What do they make yachts out of, anyway?"</p><p>Raven climbs out of bed, her ash-gray skin sparkling in the sun. </p><p>"No idea.  But at least the salesman can't cheat me."</p><p>Her hair is dark violet without so much as a squirt of dye and her cunt is blood red and shiny and her nipples stand stiff like black gems in the chilly air.  It hadn't seen her naked in such good light before and judging by the dropped jaws around me, neither had most of us. </p><p>"What?  Did you all forget how to ta-"</p><p>She glances over her shoulder and when she sees us all looking, she rolls her eyes and draws smoke to herself, forming jeans, a crop top, and a jacket out of it.</p><p>"How am I not the pervert here?" she wonders aloud.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So that's the gang.  There will be some men involved -- some of our girls are bi or pan -- but they were selected and Amazon vetted for non-toxicity.  Hippoylta-approved.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Of Gay Clubs, Glamours, and Greek Fire (Part III)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where Zatanna learns a new spell, the Teen Titans go through a team shakeup, both drinks and heads are spiked, and a rebel daughter learns from her elders.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this story, Cassandra Cain uses "Cain" as a nickname.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>One Kilometer from the Italian Maritime Border with International Waters | Day 3 of the Age of Justice</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>On the deck of a drab gray freighter, six men stand in orange jumpsuits, head, neck and ankle shackles and in two cases they wear power dampener collars.  Guards surround them in two long straight rows, pulled from a dozen NATO special forces regiments and with enough assault rifles to put three thousand rounds downrange and into the prisoners in the first one-hundredth of a second.  Atop a series of re-inforced cargo containers are another three dozen more exotic weapons, all operated by soldiers in bunkers in the belly of the ship.</p><p>On the conning tower, two suited figures scan the gray sky and the choppy sea for movement.</p><p>"This bothers you, Waller?"</p><p>"Mmm," she grumbles.  "I've been cheated, DeWitt."</p><p>Her counterpart from Interpol laughs.  It's breathy and slow and precisely the sort of laugh Waller would expect from the daughter of the French aristocracy who first made a name for herself with inside-out takedowns of human traffickers.  Three syndicates fell so swiftly that they never had time to tell their handlers about the faintly freckled, green-eyed heiress from Orleans with a taste for bratty, college-aged playthings.  The fourth time, the buyer finally needed a new fake name.</p><p>"Do you know what I could do with these men?" she demands.</p><p>"I do.  You'd be worse than Lex and he'd find a way to beat you anyway.  The reason you're not down there with them is that you don't have access to prisoners anymore."</p><p>"I thought the EU disallowed capital punishment," Waller needles.</p><p>"We did.  No one dies on this boat.  But all men grow old."</p><p>Waller scoffs.</p><p>"You really think the Amazons will just give them room and board on Themiscrya?  Eternal life?"</p><p>DeWitt shakes her head, slowly.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.  Another piece of intel I wasn't cleared for?</em>
</p><p>"Not there.  An outlying island.  Dead center in the flux of the barrier.  They won't feel it but from our perspective, they will age three times faster than we will.  Ten to thirty becomes life.  The guards will be volunteers, frequently rotated so that the time-skew doesn't hurt them.  They remain young, spry and..."</p><p>DeWitt's lip curls.</p><p>"Motivated.  What Amazon call warbonded.  No one takes Lex's money if the price is betraying their lover.  The Order of Tartarus kept Ares chained for half of Western history, remember?"</p><p>"Propaganda.  In the Daily Planet.  Hardly an unbiased source about saviors from the heavens."</p><p>"Meet her, and you'll be singing a different tune."</p><p>=====</p><p>
  <strong>One Kilometer from the Italian Maritime Border with International Waters | Day 4 of the Age of Justice</strong>
</p><p><strong><br/></strong>The skies are clear and the water is a dark, deep, tempting blue.  It's the color of Kara's eyes when Lena's knuckle deep in her.</p><p>I passed a thunderstorm off the coast of Libya and soaked in everything I could.  As a result, the long-suffering civilian population gets a gentle, crop-feeding soak and I have the cosmos's rage coating my bracers.</p><p>The radio in my little stud earring crackles to life.</p><p>"Wunderkind, what's your ETA?"</p><p>It's DeWitt, fates be kind.  Waller would be hard to deal with.  She belongs skewered on my blade, croaking out her many crimes in the UN General Assembly while only my lasso's binding keeps her heart beating.</p><p>"Two minutes.  North by northwest approach and I'll come up from the stern."</p><p>"Copy that.  <em>Merci."</em></p><p>"Anything for a fellow defender of little girls, <em>ma cherie."</em></p><p>Waller says something and DeWitt coughs out a weak denial and curses her less-respectable counterpart in a put down so florid and well-put it should be a sonnet.</p><p>The ship was rented, I'm told.  A quick coat of paint and a temporary plaque from the Italian Navy.  No doubt Lex is furious they thought they could keep him prisoner with less than an aircraft carrier.</p><p>I switch channels.</p><p>"Everyone all right?"</p><p>"Not looking forward to being in a metal tube with my brother," Lena admits.  "A <em>fragile </em>metal tube."</p><p>"Says the girl with an unbreakable, pussy whipped celestial being spooning her every night."</p><p>"If they escape," Cain tells me, slowly, carefully, like every time she speaks.  The poor girl is far from stupid.  It's just that she's learning words have value fifteen years later than most.  She treats a sentence like she would disarming one of Joker's suicide vests. </p><p>"They will regret that.  I trained with mother last summer.  She wants to visit the guest island, sometime."</p><p>"To spar, or to chat?"</p><p>"Both," Cain chortles.  "She needs to spar, to open up her feelings."</p><p>"Sounds lovely.  All of us should see our loved ones, as often as we can."</p><p>"Call back soon, my loves."</p><p>
  <em>Why not?  Once more, for the crowd.</em>
</p><p>I make a point of dropping my coin purse, which clatters to the deck like thunder after falling a thousand feet.  I straighten out before I dive and touch down like Antiope taught me, ready to snap my sword up or roll away from a blow. The coins are tossed upwards by my landing and they hang in mid air until gravity returns to normal.</p><p>Slow clapping rings over the PA.</p><p>
  <em>Waller.</em>
</p><p>I turn to face the prisoners, six cords of woven brass wire hanging from my belt.  It was forged in a fire lit from a flint struck on Diana's lasso.  It may not be as powerful but it will do.  It is to keep mortal men from lying, not to reveal Ares' true face.</p><p>"Cassie Sandmark," Luthor sneers.  "Wonder Woman should keep better watch of her sidekick.  Might be unsafe."</p><p>"Wonder Woman trusts me.  As does every goddess on Olympus.  I defeated a wretched criminal that they could not.  Great power in a god's blood, Lex.  Power to rewrite pantheon and hang new stars, in the hands of the cleverest witch of this age.  Since I am part human, I have access to such a potent weapon, once a month or so."</p><p>One of the police officers mutters 'preach' behind me.</p><p>"You will live out your lives properly fed, clothed and unbeaten unless you instigate the violence.  You will live with full access to our library and to one of our rehabilitation villages."</p><p>"Luthor, Alexander AKA Lex Luthor.  You are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing.  Johnathan Crane, AKA the Scarecrow you are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing.  Jack Napier, AKA the Joker, you are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing."</p><p>I bind his hands tight, cinching hard enough he grunts in discomfort.  Lena's throaty chuckle in my ear gives me ideas for our games belowdecks tonight.</p><p>"Eboard Thawne AKA the Reverse Flash, you are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing."</p><p>"R'as Al Ghul, AKA the Demons Head, you are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing.  Additionally, your daughters Nyssa and Talia in addition to your daughter in law Laurel Lance have requested our protection.  Enter their presence or interfere with their lives and you will die on Amazonian Steel."</p><p>"Vandal Savage, you are remanded to our custody and bound by law to harm no living thing.  Your powers will be stripped from you and you will live and die as men do.  Your daughter Scandal and her lovers Knockout and Liana have requested our protection.  Leave your cell or speak to anyone but your jailer, and you will die on Amazonian steel."</p><p>There's a seventh who I wasn't expecting.  She's hooded.</p><p>"Uncover her, please."</p><p>A hood-full of messy platinum blonde cascades around a sharp-jawed female face with eyes the color of spring skies.  It's Valkyrie, the Nazi-made metahuman who set upon Themyscira with five thousand SS, only to be brought to heel by Hippolyta herself and sent to Peace Island to be treated, to remove her brainwashing.  She would later escape during a guard change at our hospital where she was being treated, only to find The Third Reich fifty years dead. </p><p>My eyes go wide but I clear my throat and compose myself.</p><p>"Paula von Gunther, AKA Valkyrie, AKA the Reichsmadchen, AKA Sister Freya, why do you stand before me?"</p><p>She kneels, shoulders slumped, hands on her thighs and her face upturned.  The Maiden's Plea is what our poets and our sculptors call that pose.  It features in many a lewd alley side fresco in Themisopolis</p><p>"I surrender myself to my former sisters on Themyiscira, that I may be treated for my sickness and, Hera willing, come to love and live and laugh and forgive and be forgiven.  I will not be part of this new wave of fascism.  I would throw myself onto my sister's blades before I will be used to drag the world back into darkness."</p><p>
  <em>The one benefit of a Nazi sympathizer in the White House, I suppose.  She came out of the cold.</em>
</p><p>"Very well.  You are bound by law and will be remanded to our High Healer.  Should any of you attack me or my friends..."</p><p>I smash my bracelets together and lightning erupts upwards into a clear sky.</p><p>"You'll live exactly long enough regret it."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>DAAAAAMN, our girls get shit done.  I tried to pick the Rogues who do the most damage to their theaters of operation (e.g. Gotham) and those with the most power to muck things up globally.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Of Gay Clubs, Glamours, and Greek Fire (Part IV)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where Zatanna learns a new spell, the Teen Titans go through a team shakeup, both drinks and heads are spiked, and a rebel daughter learns from her elders.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Edge of Themiscyrian Waters  | Day 8 of the Age of Justice </strong><br/>
(150km inside the joint "No-Go" Zone defined in the 1919 Treaty of Veld)</p><p> </p><p>Around me, there's less water visible than foam.  Waves carry the <em>Lariat </em>up, up, up, high as my old apartment building in Metropolis.  The charm of Amphritite around my neck sizzles.  We slide back down the wave, no faster and no harder than the swing of a hammock.</p><p>"Thank you for your protection, seawife."</p><p>"Go to yours..." the wind calls.</p><p>I take my lasso and lash the steering wheel in place.</p><p>Valkyrie sits on the aft deck, praying in Icelandic.  I wait and I listen.  She's praying to Thor and to Sif and Odin and Freya.  The power couples of Asgard, as it were.</p><p>
  <em>"Carry me safe across the storms, smith god, and take me towards love, all-mother.  Warrior queen, steel my flesh and my courage that I may return to virtue and may be called to your side after my last breath."</em>
</p><p>She opens one eye and watches.  Indigo waters rage around us, almost black with the clouds blocking the sun.  Her eyes are blue like robin's eggs.</p><p>"If you are needed, I will fetch you, princess.  Go.  Be with them."</p><p>The tattoo on her neck flares with light, crimson and angry. It was once a swastika but since then she has had it changed, layering over it with half a dozen holy symbols.</p><p><em>"Nein!"</em> she bellows, gripping her knees with white knuckles.</p><p>"Do you need..."</p><p>"I will be fine," she snarls.  "I have fought Himmler's ghost in my head for 78 years, little one.  Most of those without your sisters to help me.  I can fight him another week."</p><p>I turn and open the hatch.</p><p>
  <em>Once she's well, she's going to be popular. </em>
</p><p>Diana told me that Valkyrie -- Sister Freya, then -- had a nickname on the island.  Wheat and wine, referring to the hair on her mound and the color of her sex.  When I asked how she knew this, my mother merely blushed and showed me a letter from one of my legions of aunts.  Themiscyria has riches aplenty but it lacks blondes.  Even our trade with other Amazonian enclaves hasn't changed that.  Besides the tawny, black-haired, dark-eyed women of the oldest lines which stretch back to Helen, Heracles and Homer, our stock is Midgallan, copper-skinned with muscles like rocks and with gold eyes and crimson hair or is Akullan with skin like plums and fat curves, bushy hair and broad, pale-palmed hands.</p><p>In all our thousands, we have precious few children who resemble the father more than the mother.  One of them -- Brigitte -- is so hounded by admirers she barely gets off her back.  She was fathered by some poor soul whose freighter ran aground on the barrier reefs and named after the name that left his lips with his last breath.  Once she passed her rites, she was mobbed by suitors and the only arrangement that prevented a riot was marriage, one so complicated and twisted that Brigitte's first daughter will be heir to half the seats on the Senate.  Her lovers lift their heads from her red-furred cunt only long enough to sleep with their faces pressed into her strawberry blond hair.  Hippolyta finally decided she would keep our royal books because it was something she could do for the realm without standing.<br/>
<br/>
If I took Lena there, green-eyed and salt-skinned marvel she is, I'd have to put the rest of them on guard at all times lest the poor woman be crushed under tossed bouquets.</p><p>=====</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. RSVPs, Raiders, Recognition, and Reproductive Genetics (Part 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where Cassandra Sandmark has nothing to be ashamed of, Steve Trevor is one of the good ones, none are spared, Gods bleed, Men of Steel fall, and a Dark Kinght moves through the shadows.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content:  Female dominant, roleplay, F/F/M, vaginal sex, strap-on, pegging<br/>Warnings:  Mentions of violence, brief and non-graphic (historical) mentions of non-consent</p><p>CANON DIVERGENCE (Supergirl):   Kara was Kara Kent, living in Kansas with the adoptive parents of Clark Kent a.k.a. Superman.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Themiscyrian Waters, Levantine Sea | Day 6 of the Age of Justice</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A pained cry wakes me.  I jerk upright, dislodging Cain who slides off as fluidly as a serpent might, bunching the comforter in her small hands and falling back into deep sleep.  I rub my bracers together so I have enough light to scan the cabin.  Raven shifts only slightly, pulling Cain more tightly to her.</p><p>I'm not sure how either of them survived their nightmares sleeping alone.</p><p>Whoever cried, it wasn't in here.  Cheetah remains, as always, curled tight at my feet.  It's no longer worth the trouble of scolding her.  Unless I rise before she does, I wake with her soft-furred face hovering over my pelvis, her thumbs hooked into any underwear I might be wearing, her nostrils flaring and the same plea, every time.</p><p>
  <em>"Good morning, mistress.  May I have breakfast?"</em>
</p><p>Try though I might to be a hero, I am Amazon bred.  If a woman wants to eat me out the instant I wake up, it would be truly cruel to deny her that privilege.</p><p>For the moment, Cheetah is out cold.</p><p>I strap my daggers to my bare thighs, throw one of Lena's positively sinful bathrobes over my shoulders and shut the door with a quiet click.  </p><p>In the end, we spent almost triple Lena's top price on a yacht but in our defense, every day it is out to sea it will be a floating pleasure palace.  Four separate cabins, a narrow hallway perfect for an accidental brush on the way to or from the shower, and a central room that is a parlor on the starboard side, a library to port, a bar facing the bow and an opulent kitchen facing the stern.  The space between bartop and countertop is two paces larger than my apartment near Metropolis University.  I counted.</p><p>Dick Grayson is snoozing on one of the couches, spooned with Zatanna.  Her top hat sits on the end table, apparently to hold down her wand which is clattering against the wood of its own volition.</p><p>They're cute together.  It's not like I started a flowchart but I don't believe Zatanna has much interest in men.  Then again, cuddling Dick Grayson and his clean-shaved face and lithe, waxed body is probably as close as one can get to cuddling a woman with a cisgender male.  If it was the beards,  hygiene, lack of style, or the body hair that put her off with other men, Dick might be piquing her interest. </p><p>Fates know he's a gentleman and I'm well aware of Zee's enthusiasm for penetration.</p><p>
  <em>Did they or didn't they? </em>
</p><p>A mystery for another night.  It would explain the dark purple lipstick print on his cheek, spiked with faintly-glowing fairy dust.  Homemade, no doubt.</p><p>The cry rises again.  </p><p>I go back to the bedrooms, checking one after the other.</p><p>Empty.</p><p>Luggage, books, and personal effects.</p><p>An office slash workshop slash lab of Lena's making, right down to an industrial-grade metal cutting machine carefully balanced on the bed.</p><p>"Door number four, then."</p><p>I push it open quietly.</p><p>"Goddess," I murmur.</p><p>Lena Luthor carefully maintained the image of a well-heeled, thoroughly repressed one-percenter heiress.  Even the most avid tabloid reader would be forgiven for assuming Lillian would marry her off to a Rockefeller or a Zuckerberg within a few years.  By the time anyone knew she was dating a strapping Kansas farm girl, the press was failed to spot it, far more interested in her role in the trap that cut Vandal Savage to ribbons or the intricate maze she laid in Gotham that led joker right into a trap manned by Harley, Ivy, Cain, Kara and myself.</p><p>Now, though, she is wearing a calfskin harness with a short, stainless steel shaft clicked in and is drilling Wally West from behind with a vengeance.  Her hands are gripping Kara's ankles and she's setting his pace as <em>he </em>drives into Kara. Lena's hips lunge hard, the speedster makes a strangled squeak and he picks up his pace.  Kara is grinning widely, stupidly, and looking right over Wally's shoulder.</p><p>"Make her come," Lena snarls.  "I'm going to fuck her, using you like a scruffy dildo."</p><p>She gets his sweaty red curls in her fist and bends his head back.</p><p>"Give her <em>everything</em> you have."</p><p>"Yes," Wally groans.</p><p>Lena starts hammering Wally and spurred on, his thrusts inside Kara literally blur.  Lena spanks him and his thrusts become erratic.  I'm not sure if he likes being used or if he likes how Lena's creamy tits feel squashed against his back -- which is just called having good taste -- or if he is no more immune to Kara than any Earthling, but for Wally this looks like it's a religious experience.</p><p>
  <em>This really deserves popcorn.</em>
</p><p>"Oh, Lee," she gasps.</p><p>"nrocpop," someone whispers.</p><p>Zee sidles up beside me, glasses perched on her nose, bra hastily--and incorrectly--hooked with her wand hangs at her hip, tucking into the elastic of her powder blue boxers.  Vegas isn't going to be the scene it once was after losing its number one woman -- and the toppiest soft butch I've ever met -- and her patented blend of real and show magic.</p><p>Lightly buttered popcorn is filling Zee's hat and she scoops out a handful.</p><p>"Like what you see?" she asks.</p><p>"Kara," I hiss, nodding towards the lovers.</p><p>"Supersenses can't detect sound that never leaves my silencing charm," Zee replies, rubbing a greasy trail up my neck with the corn and licking a stripe up my jugular to clean it.</p><p>Wally groans, Kara shivers and Lena slumps back slipping out of his ass in the process.  He topples back not long after.  He wasn't using protection -- not entirely shocking, given how committed we are -- but what is odd is Kara's apparently alien-built contraceptive device has been pulled out and is powered off and sitting on the nightstand.  She immediately cants her hips up, keeping his come inside her.</p><p>"Ah, fuck.  I should've known."</p><p>"What?" Zee demands.</p><p>I look at her.</p><p>"We must be in the outer waters now.  The Amazons call it the Well of Daughters.  Sea captains call it the sea of ghosts."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>I look at Zee and roll my eyes.</p><p>"Because where do you think we get knocked up so we can have daughters if there are no men on the island?  Aphrodite put a spell on this area, as did Amphitrite.  Storm magic to trap ships here every so often, mind magic with a tendency to encourage well, <em>that</em>.  There's a curse on the water to make us less...shy when it comes to men.  The parties go out, find a crew, rut until they're confident they're with child and leave a derelict ship drifting behind them."</p><p>"Huh," Zee chrips.  "So, basically, there's a curse here that makes you lot want dick in order to reproduce via cutthroat sex piracy?"</p><p>I swat the witch's yoga-sculpted and hardened ass.</p><p>"Go back to bed!"</p><p>"You are so getting hexed this afternoon.  Constrictor hex, I think.  Minor one.  Right over your clit.  Just enough so she never peeks out quite far enough.  Not quite enough friction.  Not until you beg."</p><p>"You underestimate my ability to come just looking at a naked woman on top of me."</p><p>"We'll see," Zee chortles, heading back to the parlor.  "We'll see."</p><p>Wally pulls a discarded blanket over himself and falls asleep almost instantly.  Lena slips on some latex gloves, removes the shaft from the harness and drops it into one of her automatic cleaning ovens.  She climbs up Kara's body, lays her cheek on her lover's collarbone, and smiles.  Kara kisses her hairline as powerful fingers deftly unbuckle the harness and pull it off Lena's hips.</p><p>"Think it's a girl?"</p><p>"Yeah," Kara hums.  "Should be.  Wally has the Metagene and all but Kryptonian genetics are dominant."</p><p>Those two may end up with a blonde-haired, green-eyed little imp with Kryptonian strength and a speedster's mischief and reflexes.  Terrifying.</p><p>"I want to name her Lutessa.   Your middle name."</p><p>"Hell, no.  Nyssa, after your grandmother in House Vex."</p><p>Kara sucks in a quick, shallow breath and Lena reaches up to brush away tears.</p><p>"Named after Nyssa Vex to us.  Anyone else asks, Nyssa R'as al Ghul."</p><p>"I love you, princess."</p><p>"Love you more, farmgirl."</p><p>I close the door and head back to bed.</p><p>
  <em>Way to think with your gash, Cass. We haven't even reached the island yet let alone the coronation and we've got a potential alien-Amazon dynasty.</em>
</p><p>As I lay back down, Cheetah huffs and crawls further up the bed and Cain's bare legs slide over mine as smoothly as she had slid away.</p><p>"It's a problem for tomorrow me," I tell the ceiling.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The short-lived TV show <em>Krypton</em> introduced us to Superman's canonically bisexual great-grandmother, Nyssa Vex.</p><p>As in the Wonder Woman (2006-) comic canon, Amazons conceive children by boarding merchant ships, having their way with the crew and then dumping them overboard.  Daughters are retained, sons are sent to Hephaestus to work his forge.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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